As the Night
by taligator
Summary: A different take on what could have happened that fateful night in 1981. A different life and family for our hero.


And the Night

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or fictitious locations; they belong to J. K. Rowling. Any original plot and/or characters are mine.

A/N: This is just the start of an idea and hopefully it'll grow. I'd love feedback about the idea.

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"You cannot help him."

The voice came out of the darkness and at it, he turned, distressed. "I must. He is innocent in all this."

"That does not mean anything. You cannot change what they have said. It is not your duty to proclaim this an unjust action."

He turned back around ignoring the other man. "If it's just the same, I'll stay here and watch." He moved closer to the edge of the woods, staying inside the dark shelter of the trees. His eyes were intent on the house ahead, his ears keenly tuned into the sounds from within.

The other man sighed and left without another word.

The day grew darker, time passed and still he waited, becoming antsy and moving restlessly where he stood. He picked up on it subconsciously first, his neck prickling, then a full body shiver skated over him. They came quietly and entered the house with one barely whispered word.

He held his breath and looked to the stars for assurance but for once they were silent.

A hideous green light spilled out the windows and he stepped closer, just a few more feet and he could see inside if he stretched tall. A scream made him cringe and he sucked in a breath as a second green light flowed outside into the dark night.

Then, it was silent – only for a moment and then terrified babbles filled the air.

Inching closer still he looked into the window and saw a peacefully dead James Potter. A single disinterested person was watching for visitors but made his way up the stairs, disappearing quickly from view as the frantic sound of his companions reached his ears.

He stood there staring intently at the dead body, feeling nothing but pity. Soon several pairs of feet pounded down the stairs and hurried out the front door, two men carried a long black shape between them.

Puzzled, he waited until he could hear them no more and went inside. Inhaling he smelled little but the smell of a home from the dinner they'd eaten earlier, the powdery scent of a baby, and a fire in the fireplace.

Carefully he climbed the stairs and entered the room he'd been watching for days. Inside, he was stunned. Lily Potter lay peacefully dead like her husband but the baby, Harry, who was supposed to have died, sat beside his Mother. Fat salty tears that he could smell ran down his pinked cheeks. A zigzag marred the baby's smooth skin, scarred forever. He stepped in closer and the baby's gaze swung from Lily toward him, with gazes locked he advanced on the baby.

Harry should have been dead but it was not so. It had not come to pass, they were wrong! He rejoiced inside though he felt sadness for the now orphan child. A few feet away, he stopped and knelt, the baby whimpered and crawled over the floor towards him. Stopping directly in front of him, he straightened and reached his chubby arms upward. His eyes filled with tears faster than they could escape and his lower lip trembled.

He could not stay away and he reached for the baby. He crooned softly to him as he rubbed his cheek on the silky hair on top of his head. Standing ever so carefully, he set the boy in his crib and then began moving around the room packing his blankets, clothes, and other paraphernalia. He fashioned a carryall out of the crib sheet and packed everything in it. Awkwardly he tied it around himself then found a second sheet, making a sling for Harry to ride attached to his chest. A content and sleepy baby cuddled against his chest, clutching at the sheet he was cocooned in.

Picking up a distant noise outside, he began to move out of the room and down the stairs. It was even trickier than coming up, he wasn't built for stairs and his added burden made it more difficult

Once outside he dashed into the shadowy forest and began a long gaited run even deeper inside. Halfway to his destination, the other joined him.

"You shouldn't have interfered."

He kept on running. "You said I couldn't stop it and I didn't. They didn't say he would live, they didn't know. He's mine now!"

The other sped up and curved in front of, stopping suddenly. "You cannot keep a human child. He does not belong."

"He doesn't care. He'll love me." He sounded petulant and the other knew it would be hopeless to argue.

"You are too young and you have much learning of your own to do." He had to try anyway.

He looked at his elder, narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Then you will raise him and he will be ours."

Bane shook his head, "only if the others agree." He knew they'd say yes, they could not deny Firenze anything that he asked. He was one of their youngest and a handful.

They continued on their way and soon the only sounds were their hooves beating a hasty path home.

--

The Wizarding World was stunned when Voldemort was defeated and it was Harry Potter who had done it. They were even more stunned when their hero turned up missing. Who would steal a baby?

Known Death Eater's were questioned repeatedly and they all denied knowing anything about the whereabouts of the baby.

Only one man saw the entire event and he only told one person. Voldemort had killed James Potter first and then went for the baby. He'd told Lily she did not have to die but she refused to give up her baby and died for her efforts. The curse that Voldemort cast on Harry had rebounded and hit him, killing him instantly as only the power of that spell cast by the darkest wizard of all time could do.

His lifeless body was laid out on the floor and those assembled did not know how to react. How could their Lord be dead? He was immortal in their eyes. He was all-powerful. Invincible.

They'd taken his body and left the baby alive on the same floor.

The largest search in history was put in place to find Harry Potter. His poster was everywhere with rewards for his safe return. There was not a stone left unturned over the next year.

But finally, with great despair they ceased their search. The Boy Who Lived would be forever an unsolved mystery.


End file.
